


The Adventures of Imogen Trevelyan: Skyhold Cupid (or 5 times the Inquisitor played matchmaker and the 1 time it almost backfired)

by indiecupcake



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/F, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Matchmaking, Not Beta Read, POV Alternating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-26
Updated: 2016-02-26
Packaged: 2018-05-23 07:47:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6109926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indiecupcake/pseuds/indiecupcake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Imogen Trevelyan may not be getting what—or who—she wanted, but that didn't mean that her friends shouldn't. </p><p>Just pure matchmaking fluff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Adventures of Imogen Trevelyan: Skyhold Cupid (or 5 times the Inquisitor played matchmaker and the 1 time it almost backfired)

I.

They had just arrived back at camp, and Dorian was anxious to get dry, or at least as close as he could get on the Storm Coast. He knew when they set out what he was agreeing to. Being willing to settle for “less damp” was something of a point of pride, a sign of personal growth. He was also grateful today that he shared a tent with the Inquisitor. Not only because it was much preferable to bunking with one of the men of the Inquisition, who seemed to take personal hygiene as a suggestion rather than a requirement, but also because he had a question for her that he’d rather ask away from prying ears. 

“So, Amicus, how are things between you and our darling ambassador?”

“Well, I mean I’m not sure, every time I talk to her she… she’s talking to the Inquisitor, not to Imogen.”

“Unless I’m mistaken, you are the Inquisitor darling.”

“I just mean that it’s all business. I just want her to see me; I want her to want to know more than just enough about my life to seek advantages for the Inquisition, and know what will need damage control... I don’t know, mostly I just want to see her. I forgot how much I could miss her.”

He couldn’t look her in the eyes as she talked, couldn’t bear to see the sadness in them. Instead he busied himself wringing out his wet socks into a bucket and waited for a break in her speech before he began again.

“If you’re longing so much to get back to her, why are we still here?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that all the rifts here are closed, we’ve helped every single soul we’ve come across, killed Maker knows how many Red Templars and Venatori and Darkspawn and here we still are, wandering through this damp hell!”

“Well…”

“Don’t tell me. It’s the Requisition Officer isn’t it? ‘I’ve something for you ser!’” he mimicked, trying (and failing) to pitch his voice up to her deep alto. “I highly doubt the University of Orlais needs that much iron.”

“What?”

“The girl has a crush; don’t tell me you haven’t noticed! She’s got us wandering around looking for all sorts of ridiculous things just for more excuses to talk to you.”

“She’s just doing her job Dorian.”

“Well, if it’s not to flirt with her, what are we still doing on the Maker forsaken Storm Coast?”

“I’ll only tell you if you promise not to get angry.” she said and he rolled his eyes. 

“I won’t be mad Amicus; I just want to know why.” He said and she sighed heavily. 

“Have you noticed our travelling party has been, rather consistent?”

“Well I have noticed I’ve been coming along with you every time you leave Skyhold, but I assumed that was because I am the most talented and handsome mage you have at your disposal.”

“That is true.”

“Well it seems you’ve been bringing along Cassandra along quite often, and then Blackwall for all of his Grey Warden nonsense.”

“And?”

“I suppose the Bull has been with us more often than not as well.”

“And you and The Iron Bull seem to be getting along, more than before at least.”

“Yes I think we’ve put the bulk of our differences behind us, but what does that have to do with anything?” 

“Well I may have noticed that, and that the longer you spent together out on our adventures, the more you two seem to find you have in common. So I may have been, drawing out our trips a touch, to give you two more time together?”

“Imogen!”

“I just wanted to give my best friend his best chance at something that could be really good. I just want to help you find happiness.”

“I can’t believe you would do this, use your powers as Inquisitor to… to manipulate your friends like this.” He said and a horrified look came upon her face.

“I’m so sorry Dorian, I didn’t realize that—“

“Well, I may have been considering taking him up on his offer from earlier, the open door, when we return to Skyhold, so I suppose you’re forgiven.”

“I know I’ve done enough prying into your life for one day but if you don’t tell me how that goes, next time I need to go to Val Royeaux I’m leaving you behind.”

“You wouldn’t!”

“I mean if I’ve already started using my powers as Inquisitor to manipulate my friends?”

“Alright, fine. I won’t let my modesty deprive me of a taste of civilization. But you owe me for this.”

“How about a new staff from all that dawnstone I found during our extra week in the Emprise?”

Dorian groaned; he had terrible taste in best friends. 

 

II.

The Chief and the Inquisitor had just returned from a rather long trip to the Hissing Wastes, and Krem was looking forward to a night drinking with the whole team. He rarely said it to his face but he always missed the big lug when he was away. Not to mention how much more pleasant his return would make Skyhold’s other resident ‘Vint—not that he cared too much either way for him but he seemed to be making The Bull happy. 

He was lost in thought as he neared the pub, and had to catch himself to avoid walking into someone. Scout Lace Harding to be specific. She turned around when he neared, and either didn’t notice his near miss or was simply kind enough not to draw attention. Either way he couldn’t help but blush when she smiled in his direction. Krem returned the smile with a nod and then hurried on to his destination.

The door to the tavern opened again just as he made for his usual corner to sit and wait for the others to arrive. He wondered for a moment how he hadn’t noticed someone walking that closely behind him when he saw it was the Herald. That explained it. The woman had been fairly stealthy to begin with, so assassin training had made it almost impossible to notice her unless she wanted to be noticed.

It used to be that the place would fall into a reserved—perhaps even reverent— silence whenever the Inquisitor entered. But now that she was a common fixture in the tavern, no one bothered past nodding as she passed and greeting her quietly. Today though, rather than acknowledging any of that, she walked straight for him with a manic grin on her face.

“Your Worship.”

“Krem.”

“May I ask what has you in such a good mood today?”

“I didn’t realise you blushed so easily Lieutenant.”

“Pardon?” he replied, more confused than anything, he wasn’t blushing was he? His cheeks didn’t feel warm.

“I don’t mean now, I mean outside.” she said, her grin just on the kind side of teasing. He thought for a moment and then his cheeks glowed red again.

“I… I don’t know what you mean.”

“I mean that I wouldn’t blame you if a certain scout had caught your eye. I mean those freckles! She is quite lovely.”

“It—it won’t be a problem Inquisitor. You needn’t worry.” He said quietly. He knew how to want, he’d been wanting things all his life, but what that taught him best is how not to let his wants get in the way of getting things done. There were a few things he was allowed to want, more than a warm meal and a dry place to sleep, he knew that, but this didn’t feel like one of them.

“I wasn’t suggesting you’d be making trouble Krem, I was just teasing. And maybe wondering if you wanted any advice?”

“Advice?”

“I mean I do know her fairly well? And I’m assuming, perhaps incorrectly, that I have a little more experience with women than you?”

“I wasn’t aware of your prowess with the ladies, Your Worship.” He joked back weakly, trying to find his footing in this increasingly awkward conversation. She pulled up a chair and sat across from him, facing the chair back with her arms crossed over the top and her head on her hands. 

“I wouldn’t say prowess, especially right now…” she trailed off, eyes unfocusedly staring just over Krem’s shoulder. He waited for her to come back on her own, being used to these kinds of pauses in conversations of any length with the Herald. “Sorry! Anyway, mostly I just wanted to ask, is this just a boy—a man, who thinks a woman is pretty, or are you interested in more than that? You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to!”

“I don’t know her very well,” he said carefully, then cleared his throat before continuing, “But I think I’d like to?”

“Well then, I think it’s something you should consider pursuing. You’re a good soldier Krem, and you’re a good man, you deserve to be happy.” She said, and he was saved from having to respond by her getting up from her chair.

“You’re not staying for drinks with the Chargers then?”

“I might stop in later; I have a few things to do before I get to relax for the night.”

“Would any of those things have anything to do with a certain Lady Ambassador?” he said, and this time it was the Inquisitor’s turn to blush. She dropped her gaze and he could see the smile on her face widen.

“We’ll talk later.” she said, and he gave her a half-hearted salute before she turned and walked out the door. He was going to need more ale. 

…

After a few weeks out in the field with the Chargers, Krem was glad to be back at Skyhold again. He had plans for the night, and those plans definitely started with a drink. So as soon as he had washed off the grime of travel he headed straight for the Herald’s Rest. He was stopped just outside the door however, by one Scout Harding. 

“Lieutenant.”

“Scout?”

“I saw your name on my flyer.”

“Your flyer?” he said, he had no idea what she was talking about. 

“For dance lessons?” she said and oh, oh, now he knew what she meant. Krem certainly hadn’t written down his name, but he had considered it. And he had a fairly good idea who might have.

“Oh yeah, that flyer.” 

“Well, I amended the flyer to let people know I wouldn’t be able to— you know with all the travelling and er… scouting—“

“Don’t worry about it! It’s fine.” He said, slightly relieved and slightly disappointed. 

“No! That’s not what I—I mean I may have cancelled, but I was wondering if you’d like… private lessons?”

“You mean learn to dance, in private, with you?” he said, barely believing it.

“I mean, only if you want to, it’s no—“

“No I’d love to!”

“Great! Tomorrow then maybe? We both just got back, so hopefully they won’t send us back out so soon.”

“Tomorrow, right, good… that’s… good. I’ll see you tomorrow Scout Harding.”

“Lace. You can call me Lace.”

“Then you can call me Krem.”

“Okay, see you tomorrow Krem.”

“See you then Lace.”

Oh he would definitely be buying all the Inquisitor’s drinks tonight. 

 

III.

It wasn’t that Dorian was bad at chess, it was simply that he put more effort into cheating than he put thought into his moves. It didn’t work in his favour either, that Cullen commanded an army, and was therefore more practiced in planning troop movements. At least, Cullen comforted himself; Dorian was good enough that their games were never overly short. Not that that should be comforting… 

And there it was, his opportunity for checkmate, the game was over and he had spent most of it in his head rather than their usual trading of quips. He made his move, Dorian made his usual comments about him being a gracious winner and implying that he would succeed in their next game before standing up and fetching his cloak from the back of his seat.

“Inquisitor!” Dorian greeted her before Cullen had even noticed her approaching. He truly must be lost in thought today. “Though it pains me so, I do have research that beckons me to return to the library, so I must go.”

“I do like watching you leave.” she said, in her best approximation of his accent. Dorian laughed— more than his usual chuckle, a full belly laugh—he supposed it was some sort of joke between the two of them. Cullen looked away, feeling like he was intruding upon their moment. He began to put away the chess pieces just to busy his hands until Dorian walked away. 

“Oh, I had hoped you would have time for a rematch Commander. I do believe I owe you a chance to reclaim your dignity.” she smiled softly and he couldn’t help but return it. Sometimes when he looked into her eyes, especially in moments like this, when the late afternoon sun made her red hair shine and her dark skin glow—sometimes in these moments he wondered what it would have been like if he’d fallen in love with her. She had flirted with him, in the early days of the Inquisition, but he soon learned that that was simply how she was, that she meant nothing by it, and that for the most part she preferred the company of other women.

It didn’t stop him though, from wondering how it would feel to hold her, how it would feel to run his fingers through her hair. Strangely enough, the thoughts held no desire. And that was for the best, as it was commonly known that the Inquisitor was enamoured with the Ambassador. Not to mention that he… well, that wasn’t something he allowed himself to dwell on. 

“I didn’t realise my dignity was at stake in our last match, perhaps I would have spent less time talking and more time strategizing.” He joked as he reset the board. It was amazing how a few moments with the woman could clear his head. 

“You need someone to keep you humble if you insist on beating Dorian at every opportunity—and Leliana, if I heard correctly.”

“You did. Perhaps you should challenge her.”

“Are you trying to weasel your way out of losing to me Commander?”

“Not at all, but perhaps if you tire of me—“

“I don’t expect to Commander. You’re an excellent conversationalist. Besides, Leliana has been rather more intimidating since…”

“Since— pardon my bluntness—but since your feelings for Lady Montilyet became more well-known?” he said, and she inclined her head slightly, seemingly unwilling to give away her feelings with a full nod.

“She has yet to say anything, but you know how protective she gets.”

“I do.”

“I’m surprised you’re still playing with Dorian.” she said quickly, and he knew not to broach the topic of her love life again that day. He wondered what she meant before she continued. “He’s stubborn, but he really does hate losing, I would have thought he would have given up by now.”

“I’m not—“

“Perhaps he likes spending time in the garden.”

“Yes that—“

“Or perhaps he likes spending time with you. You can’t fault the man for his taste, if that’s the case. Unless of course you’re not a fan of buckles?” she said with a laugh. Cullen couldn’t hold back the gulp as he tried not to think about the buckles, about undoing them to see more bare skin than just the beautiful, tanned shoulder that much of his clothing revealed. He felt his cheeks warming. “I take that to mean you are.”

She smiled knowingly but ceased the line of questioning there. For the remainder of the game they simply made small talk, avoiding the subject of either of their love lives. It wasn’t long before Cullen saw an opportunity to win his second game of the day. He made his move and the Inquisitor smiled at him.

“Bravo Commander, it was a pleasure playing with you, once again.” And she quickly stood and took her leave of the garden, leaving him alone at the table with his thoughts.

…

On days when he was particularly feeling the effects of lyrium withdrawal he usually did his best to stay out of sight—it wouldn’t do for the people to see their commander at anything less than his best. Sometimes however, he knew he needed the fresh air, or at least more fresh air than the hole in his roof provided. A quick circle of the battlements usually sated this need, and then he could return to his desk, or on worse days, his bed. 

Today the cool mountain air seemed to be doing him a world of good, and he hesitated in his return. He took the stairs down, intending to take the long way back to his office to prolong his walk, but when he arrived at the sparring ring he stopped in his tracks. 

There was the Iron Bull sparring with the Inquisitor, hand to hand combat, no weapons, and frightfully little clothing. They were smiling, laughing and glistening with sweat. Despite the Bull’s size being an advantage, the Inquisitor was holding her own quite well. He schooled his expression into one of polite interest, and crossed his arms at his chest in his best approximation of something natural.

It was clear that the fight had gone on for some time already, but he had barely settled in his stance before it ended with The Bull as the winner. The Inquisitor seemed to graciously accept her defeat and then made her way out of the ring and toward where he stood. The next contender quickly took her place, a young man Cullen recognized as a recent recruit. It was rather obvious that he seemed think that if the Inquisitor could hold her own in such a fight, he—a much larger and stronger man— should have no trouble winning.

“The Iron Bull really is something, isn’t he?” the Inquisitor said as she came to stand next to him.

“He is quite a skilled fighter, yes.” he said and she bumped his shoulder wither hers.

“That’s not what I meant.” she said with a laugh, but didn’t press the topic. Cullen was glad, Leliana and Josephine teased him enough, and it made him endlessly grateful that the Inquisitor usually knew where to draw the line. His eyes returned to the ring. As he expected, the recruit was flat on his back. Probably for the best too, an overconfident solder was rarely a good one. 

“Commander! Wanna go next?” Bull shouted from the ring with a smile. It wasn’t a challenge, perhaps more of an offer, and Cullen imagined it briefly. His bare skin against the Bull’s, warm from the afternoon sun and exertion, slightly slick from sweat, each vying for his own victory. Then the scene quickly moved from the ring to a bed and he had to shake his head and clear his throat before responding. 

“Maybe next time, I must return to my duties.” He said, and Bull winked at him.

“Next time.” Bull repeated with a smile. 

“Inquisitor.” He turned to her with a nod in farewell.

“Commander.” She responded, and she winked as well. He had to do his best not to scowl in response. It was an epidemic. 

…

When the Inquisitor had first sent word from Griffon Wing Keep she said it reminded her of Skyhold in its early days: in terrible disrepair but full of potential. He did his best to keep this in mind as he arrived. It was defensible enough, certainly, but the Western Approach was full of problems, and more than just the Venatori they had expected. There was also the fact that he had truly acclimated to the chill of the Frostback Mountains and did not appreciate the heat of the desert. Had it been someone other than Rylen, his second in command, that had requested his presence, he may have sent someone else in his stead. 

Not long after he arrived the Inquisitor returned, looking harried, with Blackwall not far behind her being half carried by both Dorian and The Iron Bull. 

“Good, Cullen! You’re here! Blackwall had a rather unpleasant encounter with a phoenix, would you mind taking his place?”

“Taking his place?”

“Yes well, we were just about to fight a dragon. We’ve set the traps and everything.” she winced slightly as she spoke, as if expecting rebuke. 

“Fine. Give me a moment to prepare and then we can go fight this dragon.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

He returned as quickly as he was able, keeping a dragon waiting seemed unwise, and they left immediately. Cullen couldn’t help but notice a certain spring in the Inquisitor’s step. 

“She’s always like this when we fight dragons. She’s almost as bad as the Bull.”

“Bull enjoys fighting dragons as well?”

“Enjoys is putting it lightly my dear Commander.”

“I take it you’re not quite as fond of it?”

“I confess I don’t find the same joy in almost being roasted alive as they do, but if my two favourite people request my presence during their favourite activity, who am I to deny them?” he said, and his eyes widened in horror as he realised he said more than he intended to. Cullen changed the topic quickly to strategy and Dorian calmed quickly. 

…

Cullen had never fought a dragon before. He had expected it to be difficult yes, but he had no idea how exhilarating it would be. And as it breathed it’s last, fiery breath, he laughed loudly and deeply with Bull. Then he caught the other man’s eye and walked toward him quickly, grabbed the back of his head and caught his lips in a kiss. Bull was just starting to respond when he came back to his senses and pulled away. But the Bull was smiling, and when he turned to find Dorian, so was he.

“Kadan, get over here!” Bull yelled.

“Has the Commander finally figured out what he wants then?” Dorian said as he strode toward them.

“I don’t know, have you Cullen?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that you’ve been flirting with Dorian for months, and based on that kiss, he’s not the only one you’re interested in. So if you want us, you can have us, right Kadan?”

“Right Amatus.”

“I wouldn’t want to… to intrude—“

“It wouldn’t be intruding. It would be joining us, either for one night, or as long as you’d like.” Bull clarified, and Cullen looked from him to Dorian, seeing the truth, the wanting, in their eyes.

“Maker, yes.” He said and leaned in to kiss Dorian. After they broke apart he looked over at the Inquisitor, who quickly averted her gaze and resumed looting the body of the dragon.

…

Later when they returned to the keep, Cullen ran into Blackwell, who looked suspiciously fine for someone who had a bad run in with a phoenix. When he asked him about it he shrugged.

“The Inquisitor asked me to fake an injury and sit this fight out. I’ve stopped questioning her now, for the most part. Her plans usually turn out for the best.” Blackwall said and then walked away. Cullen wasn’t sure whether to be mad at her or thank her. 

Probably the latter. 

 

IV.

Cassandra had more free time than she had expected. It was yet another facet of the Inquisition that hadn’t turned out how she thought it would. She had things to do, certainly, but as with all members of the Inquisitor’s travelling party she needed to be able to drop everything and follow the Herald at a moment’s notice. This spared her from many time sensitive responsibilities. Having never experienced this level of freedom, or perhaps simply not since before she joined the Seekers, she used that time to do one thing: train. As such, she could usually be found near the smithy with her training dummies and a sword in hand. It was here that the Inquisitor sought her out. 

“Can I ask you for a favour?”

“What do you need Inquisitor?”

“I was wondering if you would train me.”

“Train you? You have much more experience with both daggers and bows than I.”

“No, I mean I wondered if you would train me to wield a sword.”

“Well, I do not think it is a bad idea for you to learn to fight with other weapons. It’s certainly useful to be able to defend oneself with whatever is available.” She gave it a moment’s thought. “Yes, I will train you. Would you like to start now?”

And so Cassandra spent the better part of the day teaching the Inquisitor. She had expected to spend quite some time on the basics, but Imogen was already a skilled combatant, so it was more a matter of correcting the expectations that her other specializations gave her. Showing her the optimal distance to stand from her enemy—farther than with daggers, much closer than with her bow—keeping her wrist steady, altering the way she pounced at opponents.

It was nearing sunset when she decided it was time to break for the day. 

“You did well today, but I do have one question: Why come to me? Why not Cullen or Blackwall, or even the Bull?”

“Honestly? You seemed the least likely to coddle me.”

“That is true. I am not known to coddle.”

“I also rather enjoy your company.”

“I enjoy yours as well. Perhaps we could extend our time together today? Join me for dinner?”

“Certainly!”

…

“So I read the book. Swords and Shields that is, and I had no idea Varric wrote anything so… racy.”

“You didn’t like it.” Cassandra said, trying not to let disappointment seep into her voice. She couldn’t explain her attachment to the books, but it existed regardless.

“On the contrary! I was riveted.” she said with a smile, not her ever present smirk, or the teasing grin Cassandra found herself on the receiving end of more often than she would like. This smile was kind, and perhaps a touch conspiratorial. “Though I’m hoping he doesn’t go for that angle when he writes about all of this. I’m not sure poor Josie could take—er… the impropriety of it all. What about you, would you like to be one of Varric’s romantic heroines?”

“Now there’s an idea!” said the dwarf himself, putting his plate down next to the Inquisitor and taking a seat. “The brooding Seeker seeks revenge for the death of her… mentor—fictionalizing the Divine feels kind of like blasphemy and that doesn’t always sell. So she seeks revenge and finds love on the way!”

“And who would you have me find love with? Don’t answer that! I do not wish to know.” she said, suddenly losing her appetite. “Goodnight Inquisitor, Dwarf.”

…

Cassandra did her best not to hold the previous night against the Inquisitor. It was hardly her fault that Varric enjoyed teasing her so. Her plan to steer any conversation away from the dwarf was quickly thwarted the moment the Inquisitor opened her mouth.

“I’m sorry about Varric yesterday. I know he likes to get under your skin.”

“I am a grown woman Imogen, I can handle a little teasing.” she said; using the Inquisitor’s given name in an attempt to reassure her she held no ill will. It seemed to work, as much of the tension seemed to leave her shoulders. 

“He teases because he cares Cassandra.”

“I doubt that man cares about me at all past whether or not I intend to have him arrested.”

“Wait, so you didn’t— he likes you Cassandra. I thought you knew.”

“What?”

“He flirts with you, constantly, more than I do even. I thought you just weren’t interested.”

“He does not!”

“He wrote you a book Cass. I don’t know how much clearer he could make it.”

“He wrote Hawke a book too, does that mean he’s romantically interested in her?”

“He wrote a book about Hawke, he wrote a book for you. Never mind, if you’re not interested, it doesn’t really make a difference does it? Let’s get to training I suppose.”

And she dropped the subject, but Cassandra couldn’t manage to do the same. The dwarf was interested in her? Interested in more than just making her uncomfortable? Impossible! But still, she kept replaying conversations they had had, not necessarily their early ones, but those since they had become friendlier. The thoughts plagued her through the rest of the day, and she could only hope it didn’t show.

…

“What is this?”

“You would think you’d be familiar with my books by now Seeker.”

“I am quite familiar with your work Varric, hence my confusion at this unfamiliar novel.”

“Just, read it when you get a chance would you?” he said, and when she looked up again he was gone.

…

The book was about a Seeker who was looking for justice after the death of her mentor, and found love along the way with a charming dwarf. And Cassandra couldn’t be happier.

 

V.

The Inquisitor had been asking for a lot of roof time lately. Sera wasn’t used to that kind of attention, that kind of affection. But no matter how much she liked it, she knew what she had to do next time the Inquisitor asked. She held that thought in her mind the next time they crawled out the window of the room she had claimed for herself and onto the roof.

“So we’ve been spending a lot of time out here, yeah?” Sera began.

“I like spending time with you.”

“I like it too, but…”

“But what?”

“Let me lay it all out there, make things clear as I can. The amount of time we spend out here, in there,” she gestured to her room. “That’s the kind of time you spend with someone when you’re interested.”

“Oh, Sera—“

“And if that was the whole story, that’d be fine, nice even, but it’s not. And I’m nobody’s second. So sort things out with Josie and then maybe—“

“It’s not… I mean I won’t say I haven’t thought about it—I have—but I’m here so much because I feel like you’re the only one here I can be myself around sometimes. The only one who doesn’t expect some level of Lady Trevelyan, you know what I mean?” the Inquisitor looked away and Sera sighed.

“I think this is the first time I’ve ever been relieved that a pretty girl didn’t like me. Bonkers, innit? But I am—relieved that is, not bonkers, well maybe—“ she stopped herself. “I’m just really glad we’re friends, didn’t want it all to go arse over teakettle because of feelings and junk.”

“I’m glad we’re friends too.”

“Thought about it then, have you?” she teased.

“Oh stuff it, you know you’re pretty.”

“Did everyone hear that?” Sera said, raising her voice. “The Herald of Andraste thinks I’m pretty.”

She could see Cassandra’s glare clear as day, even with the distance.

“If we weren’t on a roof I’d be shoving you right now, but I’d rather you didn’t die.”

“Too pretty to die aren’t I?”

“You’re pressing your luck my friend.” Imogen said, but she was still smiling. “Drinks tonight?”

“Yeah.” Sera replied, and the Inquisitor pressed a kiss to the top of her head before disappearing. 

…

Sera had been waiting at their usual table for twenty minutes before she started to wonder if she was being stood up. It had happened before, Imogen just got caught up with Herald stuff sometimes, but she usually sent word if she was going to be this late. She was about to move to join the Chargers when she saw someone walking towards her.

“Sera, right?”

“Right. That’s me, Sera.” she said, almost tripping over her words. “And your Dagna? The Arcane-y whatever?”

“Arcanist! Yes that’s me. But um… I came over because I was supposed to meet the Inquisitor? And I thought you might know where she was, since you two are friends.”

“It just so happens that I’m waiting for her too, wanna get a drink and wait together?”

“Yes! I mean, sure, that sounds like a good idea.” she replied and Sera went to the bar to get them both something. When she returned to the table Dagna was still standing and Sera inclined her head, motioning for her to take a seat. 

“So, arcanist, that means you get paid to blow shite up?”

“I mean, I’m not sure that’s what they intended when they hired me but… basically?”

Sometimes pretty girls got her flustered, but cute dwarves who liked to make things explode? That was a whole different story. She was starting to think she wouldn’t mind being stood up by the Inquisitor—shite! She was not going to owe Trevelyan for this, no matter how well the night went. And she was starting to think it might go really well. 

 

I.

Josephine was an expert in the Great Game; that was true. But she liked to think that she understood people, and that that was what made her a good ambassador. In almost every case there was a way to get everyone at least part of what they wanted, and she knew how to give them that, and she knew how to make them feel like they were getting a good deal out of it too. 

The only problem was that what she wanted was Lady Inquisitor Imogen Trevelyan, and what Imogen wanted, it seemed, was everyone but her.

It was understandable; there were many very attractive people in the Inquisition. Many people that Imogen worked more closely with, spent more time with, had more shared experience with. It was silly of her to think that a combination of somewhat similar childhoods and her paltry experience as a bard—especially compared to Imogen’s training as an assassin— could be enough to bring them together. 

She had made peace with it though. Or at least she was trying to. Or she had tried, briefly. Was it still "la splendeur des cœurs perdus" if it was just her? Of course it wasn’t. Perhaps “la misère d'un cœur perdu”? It wasn’t like her to poeticise heartbreak like this, but it was so easy to get swept up in the romance of their cause, so easy to let it seep into her life. 

And who wouldn’t fall for the woman that had done so much to restore her family?

Her train of thought was interrupted by the woman herself. 

“Josephine, I was wondering if I could have a word?”

“Of course Inquisitor.”

“In private?” she said, and Josephine nodded and signaled for Imogen to lead the way. She didn’t quite expect to be lead to the Inquisitor’s chambers, but she supposed it was a good place for them to talk without being overheard, if that was her wish. 

“I spoke with Leliana.”

“Oh, and what did she have to say?”

“She advised me not to toy with your feelings, among other things.”

“My feelings are no concern of hers. I know you hold no interest in me and that is—“

“Then maybe I need to flirt harder.”

“You flirt with everyone! I made a list!”

“You made a list of people I’ve flirted with?”

“I didn’t mean—“

“Who’s on the list Josephine?”

“I don’t know if I should—“

“Please?” she said, with what, on a lesser person would be a ridiculous pout, and no matter how silly her list was, she didn’t know how to refuse the Inquisitor when she looked at her like that.

“The Commander, Lieutenant Aclassi, Scout Harding, The Bull, Arcanist Dagna, Cassandra, Varric and Sera.” Josephine mumbled, for once letting her annunciation go in favour of perhaps sparing her pride.

“You forgot Dorian.”

“I didn’t forget Dorian, I don’t think anyone could, but I left him off, considering his… proclivities.”

“And you didn’t consider my proclivities, when making this list?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that there are quite a number of men on that list.”

“You mean you aren’t interested in men?”

“Not in the slightest. But I suppose that wouldn’t reassure you about the other half of that list. So I’ll tell you something that might. I’ve been spending time with every person on that list, plus Dorian, as part of my efforts as the Inquisition’s resident matchmaker.”

“Matchmaker? And plus Dorian? My list had an even number of people… unless you were unsuccessful?”

“You haven’t heard then I gather? I’ve been very successful. In fact, I’d avoid all bedrooms on the battlements unless you’d like to see how truly successful I’ve been.”

“Wait, you can’t mean—“

“The Commander was just so sad after games with his other chess partner. And then after I caught him watching Bull take on… well almost everyone in the sparring ring, rather intently, I figured out a bit of a solution for the three of them.”

“Oh my. So that means?”

“I’m very good at my second job?”

“It means you aren’t interested in any of them.”

“Not a single one. Only you Josephine.”

“We’re going to have a conversation about you using your powers as Inquisitor for evil later, but for now—“she cut herself off to press her lips to Imogen’s. For now she was going to get what she wanted, what they both wanted.


End file.
